I have decided what to do in 2012.

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Oh boy.

I just got nervous.

A vision came about: my projects, all “finished” and whatnot, where people can see them; floating around the playground with the big dogs, the winners, the published; with the ones who are the stuff that dreams are made of.

Planning is safe, isn’t it? Dreaming, too. But actualizing the two is something else entirely, because you have to strap them and their realities on and call them things like “done” and “ready” and “this is the best of me; this is all I’ve got.” It means you have to take those web-like constructionisms outside of your head and dangle them in view of the passersby.

Oh my.

Regardless, I am still going to try. I’ve spent this afternoon in a brainstorm; making notes and jotting down specifics; writing lists and drawing empty boxes so I can put checks in them later. There is a little wench in my chest cavity; she dangles on my heart strings all day long and eats Validation for breakfast lunch and dinner. I’ve spent a vast amount of my day shushing her. She giggles in anticipation and refuses to be shushed; she pokes her elbows out and combs lanky hands through unsmoothable hair and watches my every move. She is hungry, after all. She is always hungry.

I suppose it would help if the lines I come from were lines that had silenced the wench. But I know too much of silent artists and repressed expression to know how to quiet her and at this point, I am only guessing. My suppositions imply that I just need to get on with it and not worry so much about the receipt at the other end. Perhaps I create because I feel like it, because I can’t help it, because I need to, and not because I know where me and my little creations will land.

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